Mr and Mrs Frost
by KartheyM
Summary: (AU, mid-S2, Ep 9) It's Christmastime in Storybrooke, and everyone is happy to celebrate, most of all Emma and MaryMargaret. Emma has more problems, though: a new couple in town, with their own batch of secrets; Neal, a bad influence from her past, has resurfaced with the news that he is Mr. Gold's son; and most disturbing of all, people keep disappearing. What is really going on?
1. 1--Deck The Halls

Thick grey clouds sent flurries of snowflakes riding on the wind, dusting Storybrooke and its inhabitants with a sheen of white.

Archie Hopper, the resident psychiatric therapist, stood on a ladder over his door, arms full of thick evergreen branches.

"Leroy!" He hollered at the burly man below, "hand me that bow!"

Leroy pried his hands away from his sides and snatched the big red velour decoration.

"Are we done yet?" He yelled as he handed the bow up.

"Just about," said Hopper. "Keep it steady!"

Leroy glanced at Walter holding up the left side of the garland. It hung slack in his hand, as his body tilted forward.

"Hey! Sleepy!" Leroy barked.

Walter jerked to wakefulness, prompting a bout of giggles from the man on the other side.

Leroy turned his angry glare to him. "What's got you, Happy?"

The giggling would not stop. "I just—hahaha—I'm just—teeheehee, oh, your face right now, Grumpy-Gus! Hahahaha! It's Christmas, why wouldn't I be happy?"

"Almost... There!" Archie cried, releasing the bow.

Happy and Walter both hung their ends on the supplied hook, and Hopper's counseling office was officially decorated for the holidays. Archie stepped down to the next rung of the ladder, but his foot slipped, sending him crashing into Leroy on the snow-covered ground, while the men on either side of him erupted into gales of laughter, so infectious that even Leroy laughed too.

Across the street, Ruby and her granny decorated the diner and the front desk of the adjoining bed and breakfast with garlands and lights, and even a wreath on the front door.

Further down the street, at the local precinct, the lights were on, but there was no festive decor in sight.

Sheriff Emma Swann sat at her desk, running reports and doing her best to look busy.

A sweet-faced blonde woman walked up to the door and rapped on the wall of the office.

"Knock-knock," she said, holding up the basket in her hands. "Can I come in?"

Emma stood from her desk with a smile. "Ashley, hey! Yeah, come on in."

Ashley stepped inside and set the basket on the desk. "Oh good; I wasn't sure what sort of mood you'd be in, what sign there not being any decorations up." She chuckled nervously.

Emma frowned. "Mood?"

Ashley gestured to the bare windows. "You know, it's Christmas. I just wasn't sure if you were the festive type..."

Emma blinked. "Oh right, Christmas! Yeah, I just haven't gotten around to decorating yet; definitely nothing wrong with Christmas!"

"Oh good!" Ashley gushed, pulling off the checkered cloth covering the basket. "I brought cookies!"

Emma almost choked at the array of goodies heaped in the basket, sugar cookies, gingerbread, molasses crinkles, and so many more. "Aww, Ashley! Thank you, this is amazing!"

"Hope you enjoy them!" Ashley said. "You can share them with your son and your husband, if you like." She sighed happily. "I saw the two of them playing in the school yard. Henry looks so happy to have his father back!"

She turned and missed the wince Emma gave at her words. The sugar cookie in her hand grew chalky and dry in her mouth, and Emma coughed.

Neal... why Neal? Why now? Why Storybrooke? She thought she had left behind the devastation of his influence years ago; not even attempting to reclaim her place as Henry's mother had dredged up any of the memories of where he came from. Nothing reminded her of Neal, and her new life in Storybrooke with it's strange and otherworldly inhabitants remotely resembled her life back then.

But apparently, it held more connection than she realized. After a whole year of not seeing anyone outside of the closely-interlinked community of Storybrooke residents who all seemed to fit the profiles of characters from Henry's mysterious book of fairy tales, in comes Neal, acting like he'd always known about Storybrooke, and even that he knew some of the people in it; to her chagrin, he fit right in, exactly the way she had not managed yet.

Emma picked up another cookie and sighed.

Down at the diner, Granny had just dished up a bowl of steaming soup and a crusty grilled-cheese sandwich, when the sleigh bells hung over the door of the inn jangled their merry chorus.

"Order's up!" She called to Ruby. "I need to peek next door."

"Sure thing, Granny!" Ruby still wore form-fitting clothes, but at least she had traded the white button-down and red shorties for a cherry-colored cowlneck sweater and skinny jeans.

Granny slipped through the door at the back of the diner. "I'll be right with you!" She called.

A young couple stood at the front desk, their bags piled behind them. Both blond haired, sparkling blue eyes, and wholly unfamiliar to Granny—the one person in all of Storybrooke who knew just about everybody.

"Hi," said the tall, lean man pleasantly. "We've just arrived, and we'd like a room."

Granny recovered her composure and pulled out the huge logbook. "Okay," she said. "What's the name?"

"Uh, Jake Foster," he replied quickly. He gestured to the petite woman beside him. "This is my wife, Elise."

"Hi," Elise held out her hand, but when Granny touched it, her skin felt bone-cold.

"Oh my, your hands are cold, if you don't mind my saying!" Granny remarked. "Sign here please," she told Jake.

"Know any good places to eat around here?" He asked casually, handing the pen back to her.

Granny regarded them warily. "You might try the diner next door," she said drily.

"Thanks, I think we will!" Jake picked up his bag and winked at Granny. "Come on, Elise; let's go drop our things off and get some lunch."

"Thank you!" Elise called over her shoulder as they headed upstairs.

Granny bustled back into the kitchen. Ruby was busy flipping burger patties and pulling fresh fries out of the hot oil.

"Ruby!" Granny hissed.

"What's'at?" Ruby yelled back. When Granny didn't answer right away she looked up.

Granny beckoned to her.

Ruby rolled her eyes, but came anyhow. "What is it?"

The bell over the door rang. "New people!" Granny pointed to Jake and Elise just entering.

Ruby's bright-red lips parted in surprise. Granny sailed past her and moved to the counter.

"Oh, hello there!" Said Elise.

Granny smiled like the amiable hostess she was, and asked pleasantly, "What'll you have?"

"Ooh, tomato soup sounds lovely!" Elise answered immediately. "I used to have that all the time when I was a kid!"

Jake nodded. "Make it a double!" He said, wrapping his arms around his wife and kissing her soundly on the forehead. The two kept their fingers intertwined, even while sitting at the counter.

"Two tomato soups, coming right up!" Said Granny. She served the couple and several others who bundled through the door: old Mrs. Ginger and her son, Mike Tillman and his two kids, even Leroy came in, shouting, "Whoo! It's really blowing out there!"

Most of the lunch rush had died down by the time Henry and his father Neal came in, their hats and scarves caked with snow.

Granny looked up with a grin.

"Well?" She asked.

Henry pulled down his scarf and thrust a fist into the air. "I won!" He crowed.

"Woo-hoo!" Ruby cheered.

"Come here, you two, and get warm," Granny indicated the two open seats next to Jake and Elise. She set out two mugs of hot cocoa in front of them. "You must be frozen!"

"Thanks, Granny," Neal muttered.

"Ha, not hardly!" Henry responded, whipping off his hat and scarf. "More like I'm sweating under all the layers mom makes me wear!"

Elise eyed him with a smile and spoke up. "You must be like me," she said. "Cold doesn't really bother me as much as it does other people."

When Granny offered mugs to Jake and Elise, the young woman pushed hers back. "Oh, none for me; actually, could I get an ice cream cone?"

"In this weather?" Granny squinted and gestured toward the window.

Elise shrugged. "The cold never bothered me," she reaffirmed. "It's just the right amount of sweetness for me."

Granny shrugged. "Fine by me," she murmured.

Henry had been staring at the couple for a while. When Granny left to get Elise's ice cream cone, Neal spoke up.

"I take it you're new here."

Jake glanced over with a grin. "Yeah? What gave you that idea?"

Neal pointed to the brightly-painted utility van parked in front of the diner. "The man in the moon told me," he quipped, indicating the large, cratered disk with the cartoonish grin plastered on the side.

Jake glanced over and chuckled. "Yep, that's mine. Jake Foster, I work for MoonWatch Security Services; my lovely wife Elise has her own interior/exterior decorating business."

Elise smiled. "It's called Open Door Decor."

Neal shook their hands. "I'm Neal, and this is my son Henry."

"Good to meet you both," said Elise.

Henry suddenly buried his face in his cocoa.

"Staying long in Storybrooke?" Neal asked.

"Probably just till most of the storm they're predicting blows over," Jake answered. "We're making our way up the coast and we didn't want to get caught on the road in this weather."

"Ah, well," Neal said easily, "I live just up the street; if you're going to be around for a few days, you should definitely stop by for dinner, and I could introduce you to my wife."

"That sounds lovely," Elise agreed. "Thank you."

Jake and Elise left the diner to begin unpacking, while Henry set down his mug with a huge grin.

"Oh man, mom is going to freak!" He gushed, looking far too excited about the prospect.

"Which one," Neal snorted, "Emma or Regina?"

"Regina's not my real mom," Henry replied. "And anyway, I doubt she would care. But just wait till Emma finds out who they are!"

Neal almost asked for clarification, but soon realized his son's meaning. "Oh, this is that fairy tale thing Emma mentioned?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah; in fact, can I go tell her right now?" He looked about ready to grab his hat and scarf to do just that.

"Whoa, hold up, kid!" Neal grabbed his arm. "Your mom said she was going to be busy at the office till late. Best not to bother her tonight. You can tell her tomorrow."

Henry sat back down. "Okay." He looked hopefully at Neal. "You know who they are, don't you—Dad?"

Neal nodded, but it was the practiced reaction he used whenever he was running a con. "Yeah, sure I do, kid."

Henry didn't notice the farce as he happily continued chatting away.

* * *

 **6PM-URGENT MESSAGE: OPERATION GOLDILOCKS IS A GO. ACTIVATE AGENT FROSTBYTE.**

 **7PM-MESSAGE RECEIVED: YOU ARE CLEARED FOR OPERATION HUFF AND PUFF. ACTIVATE AGENT ICE QUEEN.**


	2. 2--Above The Deep And Dreamless Sleep

"I just can't think of where he's gone! I mean, he never packed a bag and I know a growing boy like him eats lots of food, he couldn't possibly—Why would he do this? I was so sure that we loved each other and we wanted the best for each other..."

Emma checked the clock again and winced. Eight thirty; Mother Ginger had been babbling about her dear son for twenty minutes straight. She pressed her lips and tightened her jaw to keep the irritation from spilling out.

Finally, Mrs. Ginger paused to blow her nose, giving Emma the chance to speak between goose-like honks.

"Mrs. Ginger, your son hasn't even been missing for a whole day yet. He's probably waiting on your front porch even now."

"B-but-but... why would he run off like that? He knows how much it terrifies me, and he is normally so faithful at checking in with me—"

Emma stood up. "I don't know what to say," she said gently. "I can only guess how you must feel; Henry's younger than Paul, and I know I would just about give anything to protect him—"

"SHERIFF!"

The front door slammed open and Mike Tillman stormed in, all red-faced. He balked a little when he saw Mrs. Ginger.

"Should have known you'd be here, foul woman!" He snarled. "What are you trying to do, drum up sympathy so Sheriff Swann don't suspect?"

Emma frowned at his presumptuousness. "Suspect what?"

Tillman pointed at the frail, sniveling woman. "That blasted witch kidnapped my children!"

"I did no such thing!" Mrs. Ginger hollered, clutching at the kerchief she used to dab her eyes.

Emma held up her hands. "Okay, whoa! Simmer down a moment, Mike!" She gestured to the doorway. "Are you sure that's what happened? Because I can tell you for certain that at no point today was Mrs. Ginger here ever alone with your children, or even by herself, since she's been at social events literally all day."

"Then where are they?" Mike bellowed in her face.

Emma stepped back, her hand going for her taser with practiced ease. Nobody was going to make any rash moves, least of all her.

"Mike," she said softly, gaining his eye contact, "it sounds like two separate issues here; Paul is missing too. Just let me finish getting the statement from Mrs. Ginger and you can tell me all about your missing kids." In the back of her mind, Emma ran through the list of town residents most likely to have a need for children. "Let's not do anything we regret—"

"Regret?" Mike remained rigid and red-faced. "I can make you regret ever coming near my children—"

"MIKE!" Emma snapped, but underneath his shouting, she heard the trilling of her phone. Her first instinct was to ignore it in favor of keeping the irate man from attacking the poor woman, but it just kept ringing, and it was a residential number she didn't recognize.

"I did no such thing!" Mrs. Ginger rose up in her own defense. "You listen here! You might think you know so much, but the truth is you are nothing but a hollow-headed—"

"Hollow? I'll give you hollow—"

Mike Tillman remained where he was as long as Emma kept a hand on her taser, so with the other she answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Sheriff! You've gotta help us!"

Emma rolled her eyes as Mike and Mrs. Ginger kept arguing.

"Who is this?"

"Hugh Bayer, the electrician."

Emma filed that name away. "All right, Hugh, what's the—"

"Somebody's at the house! You need to come!"

Mike was still railing, and Mrs. Ginger's adamant proclamations of innocence didn't help anything.

"Where are you right now?"

"We're in Lou's pantry right now. Oh gods! I can still hear him tramping around the front room!"

Emma had to pull away and insert herself between the two visitors. Now they were rehashing a past altercation, but Emma couldn't track two conversations at once. "Wait, who is we? Are there others with you?"

Hugh sounded a bit miffed. "Sheriff Swann, of course there are three! Me, and my brothers Dewey and Lou! Please save us!"

The complaint grated on Emma's nerves. So many people—Henry included—seemed convinced that she was some kind of savior, when Emma knew how frequently she struggled just to survive. How could they expect her to save everyone when she couldn't save herself? Save them from what?

"You sour-faced witch! You probably ate them! I'll kill you!"

"Hugh, don't hang up—" Emma dropped the receiver on the desk and drew her taser as Mike lunged forward and got his hands around Mrs. Ginger's neck.

"Michael Tillman!" she thundered. "Hands in the air and freeze or I'll shoot!"

Mike released the woman and complied.

"Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head," Emma commanded.

Mike still faced the old woman, who merely stared numbly at him.

Emma slipped handcuffs on the man and turned to Mrs. Ginger.

"Are you okay?"

She rubbed her neck and nodded.

"I think you should go home now," Emma suggested. "I'll ask around to find out where Paul might be, and I'll call you as soon as I know anything, all right?"

The old woman nodded and allowed Emma to escort her to the door. After that, she led Mike down to the holding cells.

"Sheriff, please," he begged. "My kids are out there—I don't know what came over me! You don't need to do this..."

"Actually Mike," Emma responded. "I think I do. Just for tonight, okay?" She took off the handcuffs before shutting and locking the cell door behind her.

Mike's pleading reminded her of something else: the phone!

Emma dashed back to her office and picked up the receiver. It hadn't switched to a dial tone, so the call was still active.

"Hugh?" she called. Was that someone breathing on the other end? "Hugh, are you all right?"

"Hello?"

She didn't recognize the voice that responded. One of the brothers, perhaps? "This is Sheriff Swann; Hugh called to report a home invasion and we got interrupted. Are you his brother?"

"Oh," said the voice curtly, "yes I am; the intruder left, we're all fine, thank you, Sheriff."

Emma didn't have time to respond before the man ended the call. She hung the receiver back in its cradle.

"So much for that one," she muttered.


End file.
